


Bet on It

by toomanysharks



Series: Am I Dreaming or is that a Prompt-Based Harringrove Series? [7]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bets & Wagers, Billy is in the Party, Bisexual Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Disaster Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Good Friend Tommy Hagan, Less of a sexuality crisis and more of a sexuality realization, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Steve Harrington, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing Clothes, The upside down exists but we're glossing over it kids, pop culture references, we all love a good misdemeanor now and then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27094291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanysharks/pseuds/toomanysharks
Summary: “I lost a bet,” Steve said.“This could have been sooo much worse,” Dustin pointed out. “I’m glad it’s just the result of some weird flirting thing with Billy and not you being an idiot."Steve scoffed, killing the engine. “Flirting thing? We’re just a couple of dudes, making bets. I don’t see how that’s flirting?”Dustin rolled his eyes at him. “You’re unbelievable.”- -Five times Billy gives Steve a bet/challenge/dare and one time Steve flips the script.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Am I Dreaming or is that a Prompt-Based Harringrove Series? [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771882
Comments: 4
Kudos: 164





	1. Fries

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt "clothes sharing", again, because we can. 
> 
> Be sure to check out [**Limelight**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096565) for [**sprinkle_of_cinnamon**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinkle_of_cinnamon)'s second take on the boys sharing clothes, but with Fall vibes and carnival fun and Functioning Human With Emotions and Healthy Relationships Billy Hargrove.

They were all crammed into a corner booth, food being traded, gossip being spilled, and plans for the rest of the weekend being made. Waters and sodas threatened to tip over as the table was jostled with the constant movement of a group of kids being generally rowdy. 

The waitress gave them a side eye as she passed. Technically, they probably shouldn’t have 9 people at the table, but it’s not like they were about to split up.

Billy held up a sad, drooping french fry in front of Steve's face. "Bet you won't eat it." 

Steve eyed the potato warily, trying and failing to put some space between him and Billy and the fry. "What happened to it? And what's the payoff?" 

"We're betting in pride here, Harrington,” Billy scoffed. His knee bumped against Steve’s under the table and Steve wasn’t sure if it was purposeful, to punctuate the pride thing, or just a side effect of being so close. “Lucas dropped it in his root beer. He really had to scrounge around to get it out since Max shoved it down to the bottom of his cup with her straw.” 

"I thought they'd stop doing that kind of shit when they got to high school,” Steve lamented. “They're juniors. Seems like we should be beyond this by now." 

Billy just sighed. "After all the shit they've been through, I think we can let this slide as 'kids who experience trauma will sometimes hang on to some shred of innocence in order to survive'. But that's just me." He wiggled the fry in Steve's face again. "So, ya gonna eat it?" 

Steve scoffed, snatching the fry out of Billy's hand and eating it. "I used to stir up my root beer float so I'd essentially have root beer flavored ice cream, and then I'd dip my fries in it. Fry with a little bit of root beer? That's nothing." He tried not to let it show on his face that it actually was kinda gross. More because of the texture than the flavor.

Billy's face scrunched up in disgust. "Dude. There's so much wrong with that."

“You telling me you've never dipped a fry in a shake before? It's salty AND sweet, best of both worlds,” Steve said.

Billy rolled his eyes. “Okay, Hannah Montana, calm down.” 

“And why would you know who Hannah Montana is?” Steve asked, taking a drink of water to chase the root beer fry taste out of his mouth.

Billy shrugged. “Hard to escape it when you've got a little sister.” He grunted when Max elbowed him in the side.

“It was a short lived obsession,” Max said, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “I was like, eight years old. I moved on to better things.” 

“I don’t know.  _ Is  _ the Amazing World of Gumball any better?” Billy asked, head cocked to the side. “It’s a cartoon, seems like you regressed there.”

“Are we pretending you didn’t take breaks from lifting to watch Gumball with me?” Max asked, mock innocent. 

Billy pushed her shoulder, not really succeeding in moving her very far considering they were packed into the booth like sardines. She took the hint though, turning back to Lucas to continue their conversation about Power Rangers. 

“Anyway, what’s your excuse, Harrington? Why do  _ you _ know who Hannah Montana is?” 

“Used to watch late night reruns at like 2 in the morning when my parents would start fighting,” Steve said. “Nothing better on.” 

“I don't know what the most unsettling thing is,” Billy mused. “The fact that you willingly subjected yourself to Hannah Montana, you eating that nasty soggy fry, or learning about your bastardization of the root beer float.”

Steve nodded, thankful that Billy had skated over the whole parents thing. “That’s fair. I think maybe the most unsettling part of the night was probably the bit where we chased a demodog through the woods and murdered it?”

“I was willfully ignoring that part,” Billy groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

After an hour of continued shenanigans and about 4 dirty looks from the wait staff, Steve finally started herding the kids out of the restaurant into the parking lot. 

Billy and Steve sat on the hood of the Camaro while the kids did their usual rounds of rock paper scissors to determine who was riding in the relative safety of the Beemer and who was being subjected to Billy’s reckless driving; who got to ride in the front seats and who was riding bitch in the back seat. 

“Still can't believe you ate the fry. Pretty gross,” Billy said, toeing at some gravel in the parking lot. 

Steve rolled his eyes. "It’s gonna take more than a soggy fry to get me to back down from a bet, Hargrove." 


	2. Ice Cream

In a rare turn of events, Steve had Billy riding shotgun, his backseat filled up with Will, Mike, and Lucas. 

He tried to convince himself he was feeling betrayed that Dustin had opted to ride with Nancy, Jonathan, and the girls but really what he was feeling was jealousy. He’d give anything to be _not_ in his car right now. 

Billy had his phone hooked up, playing shit like blackbear and Machine Gun Kelly, like the guy had no taste whatsoever. In the back, Mike was riding bitch (as he should) and waving his ice cream cone around emphatically, arguing with Will and Lucas about Avril Lavigne, of all things. 

“Look, I’m telling you, she’s dead,” Mike said. “And this girl named Melissa Vandella took her place.”

“Really, dude?” Lucas asked. “Can you just let it go?”

“No!” Mike shrieked. “The signs are all there. Her style changed, dramatically and abruptly. Her music sounds different. Not to mention there’s those side by side pictures of her eyes! The corners look different.” 

“You know people just change as they grow up, right?” Lucas groaned. 

“And that make-up can change the shape of your eyes,” Will added. “It’s actually impressive what eyeliner can do.” 

Mike launched into another far-fetched explanation, and Lucas just stared out the window with a sigh. Will looked like he was actively negotiating with a higher power to just take him out of this plane of existence. 

Steve was distracted from the kids when Billy moved to turn up the music.

“Do you think we could listen to something that makes my ears bleed slightly less?” Steve asked. 

Billy scoffed but picked up his phone, presumably scrolling through his playlists. “I’m not about to listen to your Lana Del Rey underground hipster shit.” 

“ _Born to Die_ was the fifth best-selling album in 2012, I don’t exactly think that qualifies Lana as underground,” Steve pointed out. 

“Oh my god, why are you like this. You know what I meant,” Billy groaned. “Your Glass Animals, alt-J, Joywave, mood killer music.” 

“Hey! They’re not all mood killers.” Steve was well aware that a lot of the alternative music he listened to wasn’t exactly upbeat. “Wait. Have you been stalking my Spotify playlists?” 

“What, I can’t know alternative bands?” Billy sounded offended.

“I mean, you can, those were just all super specific to a playlist I have,” Steve said. 

Billy sighed. “Fine. Yes, unfortunately, I did look at your playlists. I wish I could un-hear some of the shit you listen to.” Steve thought that was ironic coming from a dude who listened almost exclusively to fuckboy rappers and pop-punk from 2010. “But, we can agree on one thing--”

Bastille started playing, and Steve wasn’t sure if Billy had picked an album of theirs or if it was part of some playlist, but either way it was an improvement. “Thank god,” Steve muttered.

But not even Dan Smith could drown out the ruckus in the backseat as Mike continued to try to convince Will and Lucas that current Avril Lavigne was some kind of imposter. 

Billy slapped at Steve’s arm to get his attention. “You know what would be really funny?”

Steve glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“If you slammed on the brakes when I told you to,” Billy said, glancing into the backseat where Mike sat with his ice cream dangerously close to his face. 

It didn’t take much for Steve to put the pieces together and he had to admit he was tempted. “What's in it for me?” 

“The satisfaction of humiliating Mike Wheeler, even if for just a moment,” Billy said, smile sharp. “And maybe he’ll finally shut the fuck up.” 

Steve pretended to consider it for a second. “Okay, tell me when.” 

Billy slouched back down in his seat, legs spread wide, satisfied smirk on his face. A few minutes later, he glanced in the rear view mirror and his smile turned dangerous. “Now, Harrington.” 

Steve slammed on his brakes at the command, looking in the rear view mirror in time to see Mike’s face connect with his ice cream, the mint and chocolate chips smearing around his mouth and all over his nose.

Lucas and Will burst into laughter, doubling over with it. Billy cackled, turning to snap a picture of the mess over his shoulder. 

“Fuck, Steve!” Mike complained. 

“Sorry. There was a bird,” Steve said lamely.

Billy rummaged around in Steve’s glove compartment, producing some napkins and throwing them at Mike. “Clean yourself up, Wheeler.” 

When they finally got to the theater, Mike predictably ratted Steve out to Nancy while they were standing in line to buy tickets. She turned on him while the kids were arguing about seating arrangements. 

“Really, Steve?” she asked, but he could see she was fighting a smile.

Steve held his hands up in front of him in protest. “I had my eyes on the road the whole time. How could I have known he was about to take a bite of ice cream?” 

“Plus, there was totally a bird,” Billy added.

Nancy cocked a hip, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. 

Will appeared at Billy’s side, eyes wide. “Did you _want_ that poor bird to suffer, Nance?”

Nancy looked at Will, then glared between Steve and Billy. “You’ve corrupted him.” 

Lucas stepped into their little circle, grinning at Nancy. “I think he deserved it, to be honest.” 

Nancy smiled back at him warmly. “He usually does. You guys figure out where everyone’s sitting?”

“Yeah, we put Billy on the end next to Steve again so we could minimize the number of people he complains to about the graphics during the movie,” Will said. 

“Hey!” Billy protested. “I can’t help it if fake monsters don’t really stack up to the real thing. And I’ve got opinions about production value, okay?”

“I’m used to ignoring him by now,” Steve said. “Good choice. Now let’s get in there before we miss all the previews.” 

Billy only complained about the graphics three times, and each time he had leaned far enough into Steve’s space that he wasn’t disruptive, so Steve figured Will’s seating chart had worked. 

He tried not to think about the way his stomach had turned over each time he felt Billy’s breath ghosting over his skin. He got shivers from the movie, not Billy. Right? Right.

They were on the way back, the boys arguing in the backseat about the probability that the monster survived (pretty high according to Lucas, not likely according to Mike, only if the movie does well enough to get a sequel according to Will) when Steve slammed on his brakes again. 

“Come _on_ , Steve, it was barely funny the first time,” Mike whined. 

“I thought it was hilarious the first time,” Lucas said.

Steve ignored them and clambered out of his car, crouching down in the beams of his headlights. 

“See, this is what I mean,” Billy said as he crouched next to Steve, crowbar already in his hands. “If an ominous smear of black goo on a back road incites more fear than your monster graphics, you’re doing it wrong.” 

“God dammit,” Steve muttered, and grabbed his baseball bat out of the trunk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP to everyone (including me) who listens to pop punk from circa 2005 - 2010 and fuckboy rappers like blackbear and MGK. 
> 
> the Avril Lavigne conspiracy theory is a real thing, btw


	3. Dungeons And Dragons

Steve sat cross-legged on the ground in Castle Byers, Will across from him on the rug, notebook open. The fort was getting a little small since Will had grown so much, but it was hard to break tradition, so they kept meeting there anyway.

“So, basically, to complete the quest, they need to cut down the Yew tree and use the fire they build with it to burn the scroll. Is that too obvious?” Will asked, eyebrows pinched together. 

Steve shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. It kind of reminds me of the quest you guys did the summer after you started high school, where you had to find a specific tree to build your spears with. Was that a Yew tree, too? Maybe just change the type of tree this time.”

“No, that was an Oak tree that was cursed by the Legion King,” Will said, like it was obvious. 

“Right. Sure,” Steve said, nodding. “Okay, well then I think you’re set on this one.”

Will closed his notebook. “Thanks for going through it with me.” 

“No problem. You know I love getting the inside track on your campaigns. You sure you don’t want to share any details about tonight’s quest with me?” Steve asked hopefully. 

“I can’t tell you about tonight’s quest because you’re supposed to be a part of it,” Will reminded him. “Takes all the fun out of it if you know stuff ahead of time.” 

Steve groaned. “I figured you’d say that but I had to ask.” He pulled out his phone to check the time. “Oh, looks like we’re gonna be late. Everyone else should be in the basement by now.”

“It is customary for the Dungeon Master to arrive following the players,” Will intoned solemnly. 

Steve just looked at him, narrowed his eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.” 

“I’m definitely messing with you,” Will said with a smile. He stood up and pulled Steve to his feet. “Come on, this is gonna be fun.” 

When they got to the basement, everyone had already staked out their spots. Steve plopped down in the empty chair between Billy and Eleven while Will took his seat at the head of the table. 

Lucas passed him a character sheet and some dice. “You’re the rogue, Lars Cenny.” 

Billy laughed next to him and Steve looked at him, eyebrow cocked. “What are you laughing at?”

“Lars Cenny? Larceny?” Billy said, still kind of laughing, and Steve just stared at him. “Because you’re a rogue.” Steve continued to stare, and Billy’s grin slipped from amused to exasperated. “A rogue is a criminal and larceny is a crime? Fuck, you know how to ruin a good pun.” 

“Okay,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s sheet to look at his character. “Finn Isher? Seriously, that’s the best you guys could come up with for the fighter in the party?”

“We all have bad pun names for this quest,” Dustin pointed out. “Mike and I are half-orc brothers named Gwokka and Molay, Max is our bard and her name is Charm Dimeshore, Lucas _insisted_ his druid be named Keanu Leaves, and Eleven is Aer Grylls, our trusted ranger.” 

“Yeah, they’re _all_ puns.” Billy sniffed as he snatched the sheet back. “And I happen to be really good at finishing, Harrington.” Max made a noise like she was puking and Billy rolled his eyes. “ _Fights_ , Maxine, get your head out of the gutter.” 

“I’m sure that’s definitely what you meant,” Max sneered. 

“What else would he have meant?” Eleven asked, and Steve envied her innocence.

Chaos erupted as all the kids started talking at once and Billy grinned at Steve. “Bet you I’ll live longer than you in the campaign.”

Steve was thankful for any reason to tune out the kids’ current conversation. “You know that’s not really the point, right? We’re on the same team here.” 

Billy cocked his head to the side. “So does that mean you’re not gonna take the bet or…?” 

“What do I get if I survive?” Steve asked. 

“Winner gets to post whatever they want on the loser’s Instagram.” Billy suggested, then added on menacingly, “In the grid.”

Steve scoffed. “No way. I’m not letting you fuck up my pristine aesthetic.” Steve worked hard for his minimal gem-tone grid, he wasn’t about to let Billy fucking Hargrove post some stupid shit and ruin it.

“So you admit you think you’re gonna lose?” Billy taunted. 

“No, I’m just not prepared to pay that price if I do. How about winner gets to post to the loser’s snapchat story,” Steve offered. 

Billy considered it for a second. “The snapmosphere is a lot less appealing as a tool for humiliation, but I’ll take it. You’re on.” 

“Snapmosphere, seriously?” 

“Can we please just play D&D?” Will asked, voice raised, cutting through the shit storm. 

Everyone shut up, properly chastised by their dungeon master, and focused on the game. 

It took about forty-five minutes before they got somewhere interesting. Forty-five minutes which could have been more like thirty if they hadn’t gotten so distracted asking the villager who kept a dragon in his basement pointless and, frankly, invasive questions about how he bathed the dragon, much to Will’s chagrin. 

They were in a dungeon (much to Steve’s delight because the game had really lived up to its name at this point), and they had to choose between two hallways. 

“Okay, as the rogue, I check both hallways for booby traps,” Steve said. 

“Roll a Perception Check,” Will said, and Steve hovered his hand over his d20, waiting for confirmation to make sure it was the right dice. Will nodded. 

“Shit, I got a 3,” Steve said. Billy snickered at this side. “But I get plus 4 because of my proficiency bonus,” Steve added on. “So, 7. That’s not bad, right?” 

Will cleared his throat. “You assess the hallways. You can tell they are both, in fact, hallways.” He cringed before mouthing _sorry_ to Steve.

Billy laughed, then pitched his voice a little deeper, taking on his character’s accent. “You are, without a doubt, the worst rogue I’ve ever met, Lars.” 

After getting stuck in _multiple_ traps, because Steve really was the worst rogue ever, they finally made it into another, bigger dungeon, only to find a horde of angry gnomes waiting for them. 

They took turns battling the gnomes, and Steve tried to keep track of how much danger each character was in. When it came back around to his turn again, he realized that Billy’s fighter was about to be murdered if someone didn’t intervene. 

“I roll to place myself between Finn and The Gnome Formerly Known As Guard Den,” Steve said. 

“Steve, you’ll die if you do that,” Dustin pointed out. 

Steve huffed, rolled his dice, and laughed when he got a 19, ensuring that his move would be a success. “I know, but at least Finn lives this way. You need him more than me, I’m just dead weight here.” 

“Lars lunges between Finn and The Gnome Formerly Known as Guard Den, protecting the fighter. The Gnome stabs Lars in the abdomen with a wooden shiv, and Lars falls lifeless to the ground,” Will announced. 

The table was silent for a moment. Eleven grabbed Steve’s hand, a look of determination on her face. “I roll to murder all of the gnomes.” 

Everyone’s eyes darted around the table. “That’s, uh,” Lucas started, cleared his throat. “That’s not really how it works.” 

Eleven frowned. “I roll to _murder all the gnomes_.” She rolled, her dice coming a stop on 9, but then suspiciously moving again and coming up a 20. 

“Fuck it,” Mike sighed. 

“All the gnomes die,” Will said, shrugging, clearly thrown off by this turn of events. 

Eleven picked up Steve’s little figurine, handing it to him. “You weren’t dead weight before, but you are dead now. You were a very bad rogue but a very good friend. We’ll miss you.”

Steve squeezed the little figure. “Thanks, El.” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little warm. “I’m gonna grab some air while you guys finish the campaign.” 

Steve sat on the porch for about half an hour before he heard the screen door close behind him, and then Billy was sitting on the steps next to him. 

“You guys done already?” Steve asked. 

“The kids are still going,” Billy said. “Unfortunately, Finn Isher touched an orb that compelled him into madness and he ran into a spike in that booby trapped hallway. Could have used a rogue to warn him about that.” 

Steve laughed. “Wow. Rest in peace Finn Isher, the greatest fighter the Pungeon Masters ever had the pleasure of adventuring with.” 

“I hope you realize you sound like a giant fuckin nerd right now,” Billy laughed. 

"Yeah but you're a nerd now, too," Steve said. 

"Hmm, am I?" Billy asked. 

"I mean you literally just got done playing dungeons and dragons so I'd say yeah. You're at least nerd by association." 

"Not willingly. Max threatened me and I know she'll follow through," Billy said.

"I'm sure she did." Steve was actually incredibly skeptical but he'd keep that to himself. "You did pretty good for your first go at it, though,” Steve said. “You never stick around to watch them play, I figured you would be more confused.”

Billy scoffed. “You calling me stupid, Harrington?”

“No, there’s just, like, a surprising amount of math and coordination involved. Especially when it gets pitched to you as cooperative storytelling.” Steve wasn’t sure he’d forgive Dustin for making it sound like they’d just be doing funny accents and talking about dungeons and shit. 

“Yeah, well, I had an idea what I was getting into. Did some research over the last few days,” Billy said. 

Steve laughed at that. “No you didn’t.” 

“Bought one of those handbooks and everything,” Billy admitted. 

Steve gawked at him. “There’s no way you'd be telling me about it if this was true. Why would you tell me this?” 

“Because nobody’s gonna believe you, even if you tell them.” Billy gave him a smug little smile. 

“You’re not wrong,” Steve muttered. “So, what did you think?”

Billy shrugged, casual. “I feel like Will borrowed pretty heavily from the Legend of Zelda lore with the goddess stuff, but that’s okay, I’ll let it slide.” He shifted, putting his hands behind him and leaning backwards. “I guess it was pretty fun.” 

“And you know about the Legend of Zelda because you researched that, too?” Steve asked. 

“Watched a lot of playthroughs when Max started making fun of me for calling Link _Zelda_.” 

Steve barked a laugh. He’s lucky he learned the difference before he met Mike. Kid had a real issue with people doing that. 

Billy titled his head back and closed his eyes. “My dad used to love making me feel stupid all the fucking time. Now that he’s out of the picture I refuse to let anyone make me feel like an idiot, even if it's about nerd shit. So I do my research,” Billy said. 

Steve just stared at Billy, the way his face was softly illuminated by the night sky, and tried to think of the right thing to say. Thankfully, he was saved when Billy straightened up, holding his hand out expectantly. 

“Give me your phone, Harrington. I believe our terms were one snapchat story.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the internet for the D&D puns and special thanks to [**sprinkle_of_cinnamon**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinkle_of_cinnamon) for the term "snapmosphere". 
> 
> Apologies to any D&D aficionados in the audience who are offended by my bastardized version of how gameplay works.


	4. Ultrazone Laser Tag Leaderboard

Steve waved goodbye to Mrs. Henderson, thanking her again for the delicious meal, and then herded Dustin into his car. It would only take them a few minutes to get to Hawkins Ultrazone, but he’d already gotten several texts from Robin that _his friends were there, disturbing the peace with unnecessarily competitive rounds of air hockey in the game area_ , so he was in a hurry. 

“Been a while since you came over for dinner. I know mom was really happy to see you,” Dustin said. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Steve shifted a bit in his seat. “Been working on reading more and trying to do yoga.” 

“And the last time you came over, mom grilled you about your post-graduation plans,” Dustin added. 

Steve grimaced. “I mean, yeah, that too.” 

“She just cares about you,” Dustin said. “Sometimes I think she forgets you’re not actually her son.” 

“If it makes it any better, sometimes I wish she were my mom,” Steve admitted.

“That’s fair,” Dustin shrugged. “I’m not gonna say your parents suck but….well, actually, I am gonna say it. Your parents suck.” 

“Not disagreeing with you there.” 

Dustin turned to face him then, frowning. “Speaking of things we disagree on -- ”

“Oh god,” Steve muttered under his breath. He racked his brain, trying to remember what he’d said at dinner that might be about to come up again. 

“We need to talk about your snapchat story from the other day,” Dustin said. 

Steve’s face screwed up in confusion. “What snapchat story?”

Dustin pulled out his phone and brought up a screenshot, waving it in Steve’s face. Steve groaned. He could see, without even having to look closely, that it was _that_ picture. The one Billy had posted on his story because of the bet. 

It was easy to tell because Billy had added the teddy bear filter and put the caption in the script font. Two things Steve had never used in his life. 

“Did you think I’d just let it slide that you posted, for the world to see, that you think Bucky Barnes is a villain? What the hell Steve, we _talked_ about this. Brainwashing!” Dustin was waving his phone around. 

Steve put his hand out in what he thought was a placating gesture, but Dustin just swatted it away. “Keep your hands on the wheel, you heathen. 10 and 2!” 

“Look, Billy posted it, okay? You know Bucky’s my favorite; I’d _never_ call him a villain.”

Now it was Dustin’s turn to be confused. “Why would Billy be posting on your snapchat?”

“I lost a bet,” Steve said, shrugging. “The terms were one snapchat story.”

“This could have been sooo much worse,” Dustin pointed out. “I’m glad it’s the result of some weird flirting thing and not you being an idiot.” He slipped his phone back in his pocket as they pulled into the parking lot. 

Steve scoffed, killing the engine. “Flirting thing? We’re just a couple of dudes, making bets. I don’t see how that’s flirting?”

Dustin rolled his eyes at him. “You’re unbelievable.” And with that, he got out of the car, leaving Steve to sit alone, staring at his steering wheel, wondering what the fuck Dustin meant by that. 

They were just a couple of dudes. That’s all. It was normal to constantly be egging on your friends. That’s what guys _did_. Whatever.

He finally got out of the car and headed into Ultrazone to find everyone gathered around the air hockey table, as Robin had promised. 

“There you are. We were starting to wonder if you were gonna bail on us,” Jonathan greeted. 

“And miss out on the chance to shoot kids with lasers? Fat chance,” Steve said. 

Jonathan smiled. “It’s definitely a nice break from shooting monsters with guns. The kickback from that rifle Hop gave me is insane.” He rubbed his shoulder. “Think I’m getting bruises.” 

“That’s why I stick with the handy-dandy nail bat,” Steve said. 

Jonathan laughed at that. “A weapon which you co-opted from me. You’re welcome. You better get checked in before these air hockey games result in lost limbs.” 

He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, drawing Steve’s attention to the air hockey table where, as if on cue, Dustin was doubled over and cradling his hand against his chest. Mike had his fists in the air, chest bumping with Lucas. Jesus, that didn’t take long. Steve hurried over to the counter.

“Dingus. You finally showed up,” Robin said, popping her gum. 

“Hey, Robs.” He handed her his money. “Wish you could join us.”

“Me too, but a new car isn’t going to pay for itself so here I am, wasting away under the pressure of capitalism.”

Steve laughed at that. “You’ve been spending too much time with Erica.”

“The girl knows what’s up,” Robin said, clicking away at her computer to get Steve set up. 

Steve didn’t disagree with that. “What did everyone pick as code names?” It was a well-worn tradition that when you checked in for laser tag, you used a code name instead of your regular name.

Sometimes they would do themes, where everyone would pick Harry Potter characters or something, but more often than not, it was random. It added a layer of ridiculousness to the whole thing when the display panel on your laser gun told you you’d been shot by Hedwig or Kreacher. And they all _thrived_ on the mystery of trying to figure out who was who throughout the game. 

Well, everyone except Steve, who frequently got the deets from Robin beforehand. She shrugged. “No theme. Max is Furiosa. Eleven stuck with her name because it’s badass as is and nobody will suspect her. Will went with a Kingsman reference and did Eggsy. I think Mike, Dustin and Lucas all picked Ghostbusters names.”

“Like, Venkman, Stantz, and Spengler?” Steve guessed. 

“Nah, the 2016 Ghostbusters. Tolan, Holtzmann, and Yates.” She pulled out a light-vest for Steve. “Nancy is Notorious RBG and Jonathan went with Aperture.” 

“And Billy?” 

“He committed a cardinal sin and chose a name that’s gonna get him targeted when people find out,” Robin said. “Scrappy-Doo.” 

Steve laughed. “Jesus, _everyone_ hates Scrappy-Doo, why would he do that?”

“I tried to warn him, but he said he was up for the challenge.” Robin shrugged. “So what’s it gonna be for you this time?” 

Steve gave her his codename and she handed over his vest. Robin gathered everyone up by the door to the laser tag arena and started the company-mandated spiel about the rules. With the exception of Billy, who had only been once, they’d all been there enough that they didn’t need to hear it, but Robin got in trouble when she let them skip it, so they all sat through it anyway. 

“Harrington.” Billy was suddenly at Steve’s side, his laser gun already in hand. “Bet I can score more points than you.” 

On his other side, Jonathan barked a laugh, then pretended like he was coughing to cover it up. “You sure you wanna do that, Billy?” 

“Why not? Neither of you were here last time I brought the kids over, but I kinda kicked all their asses.” Billy had that shitty grin on his face, all confidence.

“You know what? I’m staying out of this,” Jonathan said, then walked away to loiter by Nancy instead. 

Steve looked at Billy, tried to keep his face impassive. “What’s in it for me?”

“Milkshakes. Loser’s treat,” Billy offered. 

Steve grinned. He fucking loved milkshakes. “You’re on.” 

After their allotted forty-five minutes in the arena were over, they all gathered in the lobby again, waiting for Robin to announce the winners and hand out their stat sheets. 

“Pretty sure I beat you, Harrington. I got a lot of hits in on Holtzmann.” Billy looked so proud. 

“What makes you think I was Holtzmann?” 

Billy scoffed. “You said she was your favorite Ghostbuster in the remake.” 

“I mean, she was,” Steve conceded. 

Billy rolled his shoulders. “Plus, last time I was here, I beat Goku’s score and got on the Leaderboard.” He pointed up at the running record of high scores, where _Bobby Newport_ held the 10th and final slot. Billy clearly had a thing for playing as annoying characters. “So yeah, I’m pretty confident I won” 

“That’s cute,” Steve said, trying not to sound condescending and failing. 

Robin stood on a platform, the Hawkins Ultrazone Laser Tag Leaderboard hanging above her head. “In third place, with 232 points, Notorious RBG.” 

Nancy stepped forward, small smile on her face, and took her stat sheet. Clearly, shooting monsters on the semi-regular had improved her laser tag game. She used to come in near last every time. 

“In second place, with 300 points, Furiosa,” Robin announced. 

“Yes!” Max yelled, pumping her fist in the air before grabbing her sheet. 

Billy’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Wait. I thought Max was playing as Ariel?” Steve didn’t say anything and tried to keep himself from laughing. 

Robin sounded put-upon when she said, “And to absolutely nobody’s surprise, with 364 points, Ariel is the champion.” 

Steve grinned and stepped up to grab his stat sheet. 

“What....” Billy trailed off, looking confused, and Steve tried not to laugh at him. 

Robin reached up on her tiptoes to bring down the Leaderboard, taking _Bobby Newport_ off and shifting things around until _Ariel_ was in place, under Leia and Becky, but above Leeloo and Cousin Itt. 

Steve waved his stat sheet in Billy’s face. “Looks like I got on the Leaderboard. Again.” 

“What do you mean, _again_?” Billy sounded suspicious, like he knew what was coming. 

Jonathan popped up next to Steve. “Those names on the leaderboard? They’re _all_ Steve,” he said. “I tried to warn you.”

“I guess I’m supposed to be impressed, but, like, how much time have you wasted here?” Billy crossed his arms defensively over his chest and looked at Steve. 

Steve shrugged. “Not much to do in Hawkins except get drunk, go bowling, or play laser tag. I suck at bowling and you can only drink so much before you start getting into _alcoholic_ territory, so, laser tag.” 

“Sorry for your loss, Billy,” Jonathan said, and it almost sounded like he was sincere. “Better luck next time.” He clapped Billy on the shoulder and went off to get in on the air hockey action.

Billy looked up at the Leaderboard again, clearly confused. “Dude, what is with your code names? Ace Ventura? Wednesday Addams? _Becky?_ You’re all over the place.” 

“The first time we came here, Tommy said I should pick someone with good hair for a code name, and I guess it’s stuck.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, as if to highlight why Tommy would make that suggestion in the first place. 

Billy nodded in understanding then. “Aaaah, _Becky with the good hair_. Got it.” He crumpled up his stat sheet, shooting it effortlessly into the recycling bin nearby. Steve felt mildly disappointed he wouldn’t get to compare their sheets so he could know _just how badly_ he’d kicked Billy’s ass, but figured he could always ask Robin for the details later. 

“Alright, _King Steve_. You won. When do you want those milkshakes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you read that line about Steve doing yoga and think to yourself, "hey, I would read 11k of a Harringrove yoga au"? You're in luck: [**The Risk I Took Was Calculated But Man, Am I Bad at Math (and Yoga)**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719762)


	5. Tell Me Something Nobody Knows

Nancy and Robin had volunteered to take the kids to the amusement park, because they were actual angels, which left Saturday open for a guys night. Jonathan made some excuses about going out to the quarry to get some shots of the night sky or something, which meant it was down to just Billy and Steve. 

Left to their own devices, they’d decided to venture out to a DKE frat party on campus. Why they were holding a party over the summer was beyond Steve, but he could get behind it.

The whole thing had been loud, messy, and just straight up annoying, but they’d gotten free beer and free weed, so Steve wasn’t really complaining. He was, however, ready to fucking leave. 

“Dude.” He leaned into Billy’s side and tugged on his sleeve as a freshman threw up in the yard. They watched with pity from the couch on the porch but made no move to help him. “I think I’m ready to not be here anymore.” 

Billy threw his arm haphazardly around Steve’s shoulders and hauled them both up off the couch. “Was just thinking the same thing. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

Steve sat in the passenger seat of the Camaro, watching the trees on the side of the road crawl by as they made their way back to Hawkins. He was confused when Billy pulled into the parking lot for a park. 

“Think I’m still a little too faded to be driving,” Billy admitted. 

Steve hummed in consideration. “I’m still buzzed, too. Not sure I could take it from here.” 

“Like I’d let you drive my car,” Billy scoffed. He killed the engine and threw his door open. “Let’s go for a walk. Night air helps me sober up.” 

They’d wandered the park for a while before they stumbled onto the baseball diamond, and Billy just laid down in the outfield, looking up at the stars. 

Steve stared at Billy for a minute, laying there with his head pillowed on one hand, one knee up, the picture of casual and _cool_ even in the middle of an abandoned park. He looked so out of place in the darkness of the soft grass with his bright white v-neck and his ripped up denim jacket and his stupid leather pants and his fucking combat boots. Who even owned leather pants, let alone wore them? 

He realized maybe standing there and staring at Billy was not really a normal thing to do. He should do something. 

Steve had the crippling thought that if he laid down by Billy and monsters showed up, they’d be sitting ducks. But he figured if he was gonna have to fight monsters bare handed, at least he had Billy to help. So he laid down, brushing Billy’s shoulder with his own as he got comfortable in the grass. They’d killed the last of those weird black-ooze creatures last week anyway. 

At least, he hoped they had. 

Billy’s voice cut through his escalating thoughts. “Bet you won't tell me something that nobody knows about you.”

And that certainly wasn’t something Steve had expected. This felt different from the rest of their bets somehow. 

“And why would I do that? Usually there’s something in it for me.” Steve said. “Better think of something good if I gotta submit to the humiliating ordeal of being known.” 

Billy hummed and nodded. “That’s fair. Alright, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine. You can have a secret in return.”

“Okay. I'm afraid that when I die, nobody will care,” Steve admitted, without even thinking about it. Now that the words were out there, he was struck with the realization of how _true_ it was that he felt that way, even though he knew, logically, it _wasn’t_ true. 

He felt exposed in some weird way, and he almost wished he could take the words back, but they were already out there - laid bare in the darkness. 

Billy shifted a little closer, and Steve felt his heat all along his side. “That's rough, buddy.”

Steve glanced over and realized how fucking close they were. “Did you just... _Zuko_ me?” 

“Might have,” Billy shrugged, and Steve felt the motion from where their shoulders were pressed together. 

Steve rolled his eyes and looked back up at the sky. He couldn’t handle looking at Billy and the way his soft curls framed his stupid face. “Whatever. Deal’s a deal. What about you?” 

“I'm afraid that my girlfriend could turn into the moon,” Billy said, mock seriousness lacing his tone. 

“If it happened to Sokka, it can happen to any of us,” Steve said with a laugh. “For real though.” 

“I never said it was gonna be some deep, dark secret, Harrington. Not my fault you didn’t clearly define the parameters of the secret to be shared,” Billy chastised. “Also not my fault you went ham with the fucking internal crisis sharing.” 

“You’re the fucking worst, but I guess you’re right.” Steve knew he should be mad, but honestly, it felt good to tell someone his secret and not have it be some huge _thing_ , so he wasn’t really that mad. “Okay, so, girlfriend turning into the moon, huh? I know you’re making an Avatar joke, but I’m low key suspicious you’re worried about it because you’re a werewolf.”

Billy laughed. “A werewolf? Wouldn’t I be happy if my girlfriend was the moon then? Werewolves fucking love the moon.”

“Nah, you’d be, like, distraught.” Steve pointed up at the moon. “She’d be so far away. And also she’d be the reason you turn into a rage monster during the full moon.” 

“If you think I’m only a rage monster on full moons, you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Billy joked. 

Steve waved his hand around. “Psh. You’re not nearly as mad as you used to be.” Almost like his abuser being jailed did a lot for his mental, physical, and emotional health, but Steve didn’t say that part out loud.

Billy made a non-committal sound. “You really think if I was a supernatural creature that I'd be a werewolf?” 

“Well it's not exactly a choice most of the time, is it? I think you spend enough time in the woods at night that being bitten by and turning into a werewolf is, like, the most likely option,” Steve reasoned.

“Sure, sure,” Billy conceded. “But let's pretend for a second you could pick. What do you think would suit me the best?”

“Oh, good question.” Steve thought for a minute, trying to remember all the stuff from that Monster Encyclopedia Dustin had given him for Christmas a few years ago. “Probably a Siren or an Incubus or something.” 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” 

Steve scoffed. “Dude, you’re wearing a nearly transparent white v-neck with leather pants. And it’s not even surprising that you’re wearing that shit. You just _look_ like that all the time. You’re definitely luring unsuspecting people to their death using raw sex appeal.” 

“You trying to slut shame me, pretty boy?” Billy asked, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice so he glanced over at him, only to find out Billy was looking at him. 

Fuck, their faces were _so close_. Did friends do shit like this? Steve was realizing the answer was _probably not_. 

“I’d never,” Steve breathed. “I think it’s great. Keep up the good work. I’m sure the ladies love it.” 

“Not just the ladies.” Billy smirked and looked away from Steve again. “Alright, here’s a secret for you: I’ve never slept with a girl before.”

“No fuckin way.” Billy’s rep had followed him around since he’d arrived in Hawkins, and certainly hadn’t died down in college. “What about Tina?”

Billy frowned. “Rumor.” 

“Heather?” Steve propped himself up on one elbow so he could see Billy’s face better. 

“Mutual oral,” Billy explained. 

“Allison from our Psych lecture last year?” Steve was aware it would be annoying to go through a full list of Billy’s alleged _partners_ , but he needed one more confirmation before he could shift his whole world view to accommodate the fact that Billy was _not_ fucking girls left and right.

“That was a lie she told Rebecca to figure out if she was the one who was leaking her secrets.” Billy laughed at that. “Turns out she was.” 

“Damn, that's messed up,” Steve muttered. “Well, Rebecca looked like the kind of person who would do shit like that.”

Billy nodded. “Agreed, she just had that fucking _face_.” 

Steve laid back down now that he didn’t need to be watching Billy’s face for a lie. “Wow, Billy Hargrove. A virgin. Can’t believe it.”

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes. Only if you define virginity through the lens of penetrative sex. And even if that’s your take, _still not a virgin_ , just never fucked a girl before.” Billy’s tone turned a little heated. “And even if I was, why would you sound so judgy about it? Virginity’s an outdated social construct that’s used as a tool of misogyny and --”

“Hang on.” Steve cut Billy off before he could gain any more steam “I wasn’t judging you. I was just surprised because of your reputation. Sorry it came out wrong. And you’re not the only one who took a Gender and Sexuality class; you don’t have to lecture me about it.”

Rather than say anything, Billy just huffed, like _okay_ , _good_. 

Steve laughed, a little delirious. “Kinda crazy we’re even having this conversation. Like, High School Steve wouldn’t believe me if I went back in time and told him this was happening.” 

“Yeah, neither would I,” Billy said. “But I was stupid about a lot of stuff at 17. Pretty embarrassing in retrospect.” 

Steve glanced at Billy. “What were you doing at 17 that was so embarrassing?”

“Besides being a giant asshole and pining after someone who was never gonna get with me?” 

Billy looked at him and Steve felt his breath catch at the realization that:  
1\. Billy was fucking beautiful and unfairly kissable,  
2\. That was not a thought that Steve was used to having about guys,  
3\. That probably wasn’t something people typically thought about their friends, and  
4\. He was definitely sober enough that he couldn’t attribute that thought to booze and weed.

Steve hurriedly sat up. “Hmm. Well, we all made mistakes when we were 17. Being embarrassed by your past self is a sign of growth, and all that. Anyway, thinking I’m good to go.” He glanced over his shoulder Billy. “How’re you feeling?” 

Billy stretched his hands above his head, his shirt riding up and revealing tanned, toned abs, and Steve was realizing _a lot_ of things in one night, like how he wanted his tongue on those abs. 

“Good to drive,” Billy said, rolling up from laying down to standing in one smooth motion. 

Steve envied his grace as he stumbled up onto his feet. “Let’s get out of here.” 

After Billy dropped him off, Steve laid out on his couch and turned on Parks and Rec. He’d gotten a few hours into his mini-binge when he got a string of texts from Billy.

_dude_

_I gotta say something so I’m gonna hit u with, like_

_100 back to back texts_

_so just shut up a second and read_

Steve had _no_ idea where this was going, but he knew if he read the texts as they came in, he’d be tempted to respond in real time, so he got up and put his phone down on his bed while he got ready to go to sleep. 

When he got back to his room, he had thirteen new texts from Billy. 

_been thinking about what u said_

_about u being scared about ppl not caring if u weren’t around_

_u know the world would stop turning in Hawkins if u died right_

_like, the brats would be trying every fucking…_

_resurrection spell they could find until they reanimated ur fucking corpse_

_so pretty sure I can speak for them and say they would care._

_a fuck of a lot_

_and even if I can't speak for them, I can speak for myself_

_u dying is, like, top 3 fears_

_like, it’s creatures that live in the unexplored depths of the ocean_

_my girlfriend turning into the moon_

_and then u dying is at number three, probably_

_we'd be lost without you_

Steve felt like his face was hot. His throat was a little tight. And maybe his eyes were kinda wet. But nobody was around to see it, so he could pretend that he was fine. 

He figured since Billy had texted him instead of saying it to his face when he had the perfect opportunity, directly responding to the heartfelt confession probably wouldn’t go well. 

_**You’d be lost without me huh** _

_**Did you just quote the movie Balto?** _

_**Omg, do you think they'll put a bronze statue of me in Central Park?** _

Billy’s response was immediate, like he’d been waiting for Steve to text him back. 

_if they do, I'm gonna go see it just so I can spray paint a giant dick on it_

That sounded about right. 

**_Art is meant to be engaged with. I think your addition would be lovely_ **

**_Thanks, Billy. I mean it._ **

He didn’t have to wait long for Billy’s reply.

_fuck off and go to sleep, Harrington_

Steve grinned to himself in bed, feeling genuinely lighter and better than he had all day. 


	6. You Can Fucking Bet On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were waiting for the obligatory 'Billy in short shorts' scene, rest easy, it has arrived.

Steve had been doing a lot of _realizing_ in the past couple of weeks since he had laid down in that baseball field with Billy. 

For one thing, he’d realized that Billy was bi, or pan, or _something._ Definitely not straight, and definitely into dudes, based on the fact that he hadn’t slept with a girl but was adamantly _not a virgin_. 

Another thing Steve had abruptly realized was that he was _also_ bi, or pan, or something. Bi felt like a good word. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt right, for now at least. After the dam had broken, Steve realized he had probably been bi for, like, a long time, and just never really acknowledged it. 

He didn’t have issues with being not-straight on, like, a logical level. But for some reason, it was hard making the words come out. Like some part of him, deep down, still couldn’t handle the fact that he was into people regardless of gender. 

Steve was determined to squash that. He laid in bed, staring at his ceiling, just saying “I’m bi” out loud to himself. He was getting used to the way it sounded coming out of his mouth, alone in the darkness, so he figured it was time to say it out loud to someone else.

For all his monster, upside down, Russian infiltration types of secrets, he would usually go to Nancy, because she got it. For all other personal crises, Tommy was still his go-to confidante, so he called him.

“Steven! Buddy! Carol and I were just sitting around the fire pit, you should come over,” Tommy greeted. Steve could hear music playing in the background, not quite loud enough to cover up the ambient sound of the night. Combined with Tommy’s voice, the whole thing was calming - comforting in its familiarity. 

“Ah, I’m already in my pajamas,” Steve lied. “Otherwise I would.”

Tommy laughed. “Come in your jammies, dude. Who cares. Not us, that’s for sure. Seen you in worse.” 

“Never gonna let me live down the 8th grade formal Hawaiian Punch incident, are you?” Steve smiled at the memory. His mom had been pissed when he’d come home, white shirt soaked in the vivid red tones of thrown-up Hawaiian Punch. 

“Absolutely not. What’s up?” 

Steve sighed. “I have to tell you something.” 

“Ominous. Loving it. What is it?” Tommy said. 

Steve opened his mouth to speak, words on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out. He tried a few more times. 

“You still there, dude?” Tommy sounded worried. 

“I’m here! I’m working on it. I just…” Steve trailed off, not sure how to explain why he was struggling to come up with the words. “I just _realized_ something.” 

There was a rustling sound on the other end, and then the sound of a patio door clicking closed. “Okay. I’m all ears. Take your time.” The music and the night sounds were gone, and Steve knew Tommy had moved into the house for some privacy. He felt a pang of gratitude for Tommy Hagan. 

“I’m -- “ Steve took a deep breath. He could do this. He closed his eyes, pretended he was still just laying in bed talking to himself. “I’m bi.” 

There was a long silence on the other end, and Steve panicked for a second, like maybe he _shouldn’t_ have told Tommy. 

“Oooookay,” Tommy finally said, then seemed to realize how that sounded because he quickly added. “I mean, that’s awesome, dude. I’m happy for you! Thanks for telling me but, like. I don’t know...I thought you already knew that? I don’t wanna be a dick, but like, even I knew that.” 

“You knew I was bi?” Steve cringed as his voice went up about 3 octaves in incredulity. 

Tommy laughed. “I mean, yeah, I’ve seen your face when you see a hot dude. I’m wondering what triggered the realization for you, though.” 

Fuck. Steve sighed. Might as well just get it all out there. “Pretty sure I’m in to Billy fucking Hargrove.” 

“Look, man, I am _really_ not trying to be a dick but, like, yeah? Obviously? I thought you guys were fuck buddies in high school,” Tommy says, the picture of nonchalance. 

“What?!”

“I mean, you guys had that whole sexual tension, one-upping, lingering gaze thing going on. Just figured you guys were fucking.” Tommy cleared his throat. “I mean, if it makes you feel any better, it’s like, very clearly a two way street.” 

Steve pulled his hand down his face. “What does that _mean_.” 

“It means I’ve seen you two together enough to say that every time he looks at you his face gets all soft, and he _always_ manages to be next to you, which is not an accident, and when he smiles at you, it’s like, a different kind of smile than it is with anyone else,” Tommy explained. “And that’s just, like, casual observations. Imagine if I was actively watching - I’d have so much more evidence. He isn’t subtle about it.” 

Steve stared at his ceiling and tried to get his thoughts together. “So you think Billy is in to me.” 

“Psh, I _know_ he is. So what are you gonna do about it?” 

“I gotta go,” Steve said. “Thanks, Tommy.” 

“Go get your man!” Tommy yelled before Steve hung up on him. 

Steve flipped his phone over in his hands several times, debating what he wanted to do. He had an idea, but he was worried it would mess things up. 

Things had been fine, great, really, since that night after the party, despite Steve’s fears that things would get awkward after they’d shared secrets. It had felt like a level of intimacy that wasn’t really normal for their friendship. 

And that intimacy was making him think that maybe Tommy was right. But on the other hand, maybe they were just _really close friends_ now. Maybe Steve was reading into it too much. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, before quickly typing out and sending two texts back to back.

_**Bet you won’t meet me at the Community Pool at midnight** _

_**Swimsuits optional.** _

Steve hauled himself out of bed before he could chicken out and headed to the pool. He parked on the street a few blocks away, because the pool was closed, and his car was known well enough around town that it would be pretty obvious Steve Harrington had broken into the community pool if he parked in the parking lot. 

He checked his phone for the millionth time as he approached the fence. It was 11:55 and he still hadn’t heard back from Billy. 

Whatever, he thought as he jumped the fence and made his way to the darkened pool deck. Normally he’d be anxious about being out alone at night, but he figured the fence would at least slow any monsters down enough that he could make a run for it if something popped up. 

He checked his phone one last time - 12:02, no texts - before stripping out of his clothes and sliding into the pool. He was grateful the dark water provided some level of modesty. 

Steve swam around, trying to burn off his nervous energy. What the fuck was he going to do if Billy didn’t show up? And actually, more frighteningly, what was he going to do if Billy _did_ show up? He hadn’t really thought this through. After a few laps, he swam to the middle of the pool and just stayed there, eyes closed, focusing on his breathing. 

As he tread water, moonlight shining down on his bare shoulders, soft ripples lapping at his chest, he thought to himself that perhaps he had taken it too far and things had gotten out of hand. Well, maybe not _out of hand,_ necessarily, but close. Like, teetering at the edge of his palm, trying to slip through his fingers.

He had started this summer thinking Billy was his friend, and now here he was, 3 weeks before they had to go back to college together, trying to get the guy _naked_ in a pool with him. Was that out of hand? He wasn’t sure.

But whatever, Steve didn't need things in his hands. He needed Billy Hargrove to show up and get naked with him. For skinny dipping purposes. Because of the bet.

And if he didn’t show up, Steve would just...play it off like a joke, or something. It was fine.

“You have no idea how tempting it is to just steal your clothes and leave, Harrington.” Billy’s voice pulled Steve out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see Billy was crouched at the edge of the pool by the pile of clothes Steve had left behind. 

Steve couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at seeing Billy. He couldn’t believe he’d actually shown up, holy shit. “I mean, you could. Or you could come on in. Water’s great,” Steve said, splashing at the water a bit. 

Billy grinned back at him before standing up and shucking his leather jacket. “Any reason we're doing this at the public pool instead of your backyard?”

“I figured the trespassing part would make it hard to pass up. The thrill of it being illegal and all that,” Steve said. He _had_ thought about just inviting Billy over to his house, but it seemed like an added layer of desperation.

“I mean, pretty sure skinny dipping in itself is illegal - indecent exposure,” Billy said with a laugh, pulling his shirt off. Steve thought _indecent_ was a good word for how fucking hot Billy was. “Not sure we needed to add on trespassing too, but I love a good one-two punch when it comes to misdemeanors.” He kicked his shoes off as he said it. 

Steve watched as Billy unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants down and throwing them onto the pile with all their other clothes. 

Billy stood there in just his tight little boxer briefs, miles and miles of tanned skin on display. Moonlight glinted off the silver pendant resting on his bare chest and Steve realized he was staring. 

“If I’d known you were gonna watch me undress the whole time, I woulda put more effort into making it a sexy show for you,” Billy teased. He cocked one eyebrow and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear.

Steve blushed, but rolled his eyes and turned around before he actually experienced that indecent exposure Billy was talking about. “You’re the worst,” he said. 

There was a splash as Billy dove into the pool, and Steve turned around in time to see him resurface, water dripping off his cheekbones and his jaw as he came up for air. Billy flipped his wet curls back out of his face. “Am I though?” 

“Maybe not the _worst_ worst,” Steve conceded, and Billy laughed at that. 

“Haven’t been here after hours since we graduated high school,” Billy said. 

Steve nodded. “We were living the life back then. Was great having a lifeguard who could get us in at night without breaking the law.” 

“Yeah, well, you gotta diversify your resume, and you know I’m all about that internship life now,” Billy said. He started swimming in circles around Steve, his arms cutting through the water easily, naturally. “Not like it matters if we get caught anyway, Hop isn’t gonna do anything.” 

Steve spun around in lazy circles to keep facing him.“Hop’s out of town. So if we get caught, chances are we _will_ get in trouble. You know none of the deputies like us,” Steve pointed out. 

“Ah, so there is a part of you that likes danger,” Billy said. 

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit how much that was true. “Speaking of your internship, how is that going?”

Billy came to a stop, facing Steve and treading water. “Did you really ask me to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night so you could hear more about my internship?” 

“Not really,” Steve swallowed.

Billy splashed water at him. “Alright, well you've got me wet, naked, and within arm’s reach. What's your next move, pretty boy?”

Steve stared at Billy, a little dumbstruck, because he really had no idea _what_ his next move was and now there was all this fucking tension. Did he just go in for a kiss? Did he play it coy? Was he supposed to have some smooth line?

“I can _hear_ you overthinking this,” Billy said, grin sharp and dangerous. 

Steve scoffed. “Overthinking isn’t really something I’m usually accused of.” 

“Yeah, because you've got good instincts. You don't usually have to think that much,” Billy said, swimming closer. “So stop thinking and just do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.” 

Billy was so close that Steve could see the pool water clinging to his eyelashes. He could feel the heat rolling off his body. Their legs slid against each other under the water’s surface. 

Steve was caught up in the blue of Billy’s eyes, how bright and happy they looked, when a blue of a different kind flashed across his vision, followed by a flash of red. 

“Fuck,” Steve hissed. As the police lights continued flashing from the parking lot, they heard a car door open and close. 

Billy laughed. “Cop blocked. Are we running?” 

“We’re definitely running,” Steve said. Water splashed as they both swam to the edge of the pool and pulled themselves out. 

Steve blindly grabbed for any clothes from the pile, shoving his still-wet limbs into pants and a shirt as quickly as he could. On the other side of the fence, he could hear the cop calling for them to stay where they were. 

“Fuck that,” Billy hissed. “Please tell me you drove here.” 

“Of course I drove here! Did you not?” 

“Walked,” Billy said as he pulled on his shoes, hopping on one foot to get the second boot on before they started running towards the fence. 

Billy made it up and over before Steve. The second he landed on the other side, he let out a string of curse words. “My fucking jacket, I forgot it.” 

Steve glanced back by the pool and spotted the jacket there. He tossed his keys over the fence to Billy. “Go start my car. It’s a few blocks from here, by the house with the blue shutters. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Harrington---” 

“We both know I’m faster than you anyway, fucking go!” Steve didn’t wait for Billy to object again, he just sprinted back to where their clothes had been piled. The cop was making his way onto the pool deck when Steve snatched the jacket, wrestling it on his body as he ran for the fence. 

The cop was definitely yelling for him to stop, but he had better places to be, so he ignored him. Steve jumped the fence effortlessly, thankful that monster hunting had honed his physical skills, and quickly put space between himself and the cop.

Steve slid into the passenger seat of his car and didn’t even have the door fully closed before Billy was peeling away from the curb. 

They both let out a whoop of laughter as they made it out of the neighborhood and it was clear the cop wasn’t going to follow them.

“So, where to?” Billy asked, glancing over at Steve. 

“Quarry?”

“Quarry,” Billy agreed, turning left to get them on the road that would take them there. 

Steve felt like his breath finally evened out enough to speak. “So why’d you walk to the pool?” 

It used to be fairly common for Billy to walk places before, when Neil would confiscate his car keys as a form of punishment, but that wasn’t an issue anymore. 

“I was working on the Camaro when I saw your text. Was faster to just leave it and walk over than put it back together and drive.” 

“So you were in a hurry to get to the pool, huh?” Steve looked over at Billy, feeling way more smug than he should have.

Billy rolled his eyes.”It’s gonna take more than car problems to get me to back down from a bet.” 

Steve felt a wave of deja vu hit him at that, and he remembered sitting on the hood of the Camaro, saying almost the same thing about soggy fries to Billy, but this time it felt different. It felt like Billy wasn’t just talking about a bet anymore. 

Billy gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and grinned. “Anyway, it worked out pretty well for me - finally got to get behind the wheel of this baby and let her loose.” 

Steve grimaced at the mistreatment his car had suffered at Billy’s hand while they escaped. “Enjoy it while you can, you’re never getting behind the wheel again. Jesus, sometimes I forget how reckless you can be when you drive.” 

“Hey, it got us away from the cops, didn’t it?” Billy pulled into the gravel lot that served as the parking spot for the quarry. 

“You’re not wrong there,” Steve admitted as Billy killed the engine. He held his hand out expectantly. “Keys.” 

Billy dropped the keys in Steve’s hand, then threw the door open. “C’mon,” he said, nodding towards the pier. 

Steve followed Billy down to the pier and they sat at the end, feet dangling over the edge just above the water. The sky was so clear out here that Steve could easily see the stars, and he was looking for constellations when Billy broke the comfortable silence they had fallen into. 

“Did you know the Big Dipper isn’t a constellation?” 

Steve glanced over at Billy, and he was looking up at the stars, too. Steve looked back at the sky and laughed. “You’re so full of shit.” 

“I’m dead fucking serious,” Billy said, but he was laughing, too. “It’s an asterism, which is different. It’s part of Ursa Major, which by the way, is an _actual_ constellation.” He pointed at the sky. “Look, there it is.” 

Steve leaned closer to Billy so he could see where he was pointing and finally saw the Big Dipper.

“Okay so there’s the handle, right, which is the bear’s tail,” Billy explained, moving his hand, and Steve followed along as Billy traced the stars. “Then the cup is, like, the flank, and this is the rest of the body. And here’s his legs. Boom, Ursa Major. Valid constellation.” 

“I would ask why you know this, but I have a feeling it has something to do with not wanting to look like an idiot around a bunch of kids,” Steve hedged. 

“Hey, I happen to _enjoy_ astronomy, thank you very much,” Billy huffed. 

“No, no, I can tell you’ve really done your research here. I’m impressed,” Steve said. He looked over at Billy and realized he was fully in his space, close enough to see the freckles on his cheeks. 

Billy smiled at him, eyes bright. “You should be impressed,” he said, voice soft. His eyes fell to Steve’s mouth before traveling further south and landing on Steve’s chest. “I know I asked you to get my jacket, but I didn’t notice until just now you managed to snag my shirt, too.” Billy tugged at the hem of Steve’s shirt. 

Steve realized he was, in fact, _still_ wearing Billy’s leather jacket. They’d both been wearing grey shirts, but now that Steve looked closer, he could tell he had put on Billy’s shirt in their mad scramble to get dressed at the pool. 

“You know I wouldn’t willingly wear a Twenty One Pilots tour t-shirt,” Steve said. “And now I’m thinking my NASA shirt is probably a better fit for you than it is for me.” 

“I mean, I’m not mad about it. My jacket suits you,” Billy said, running his hand up the front of the jacket and wrapping his fingers around the collar. 

Steve grinned at him, stupid and easy. “Oh yeah? Well that’s good, because I think I’m keeping it. As ransom.” 

“Oh?” Billy asked, eyes wide as he looked at Steve. “Ransom for what, exactly?” 

“Milkshakes. You still owe me from laser tag, Hargrove.” 

Billy leaned forward, lips brushing against Steve’s cheek. “And if I wanna pay you back a different way?” 

“That could be negotiated. What did you have in mind?” 

Billy laughed and yanked on the collar of his jacket, crashing their mouths together. 

Steve threaded his fingers in Billy’s curls, still wet from their swim, smiling into the kiss. When they pulled apart, Billy was smiling too. 

“Still want that milkshake?” Billy asked, running his thumb along Steve’s jaw. 

“Oh, fuck yes,” Steve answered, no hesitation. “Whaddya say, you gonna take me out to Monty's this weekend and play footsie under the table while we share a strawberry shake?" 

Billy grinned, wide and bright. "You can fucking bet on it, pretty boy." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll keep it real with you, this whole fic started with the skinny dipping scene. And then I was like haha but like, why would they be skinny dipping? And then my brain said 'time for a 5+1 about bets'. 
> 
> It is truly a pleasure to be able to text [**sprinkle_of_cinnamon**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinkle_of_cinnamon) and be like 'hey how about that clothes sharing prompt again' and get the response 'oh for sure'. Be sure to check out [**Limelight**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096565) for carnival adventures and string lights and (spoiler) kissing that made me swoon.
> 
> And if you want MORE harringrove fun, the rest of the works in [Am I Dreaming or is that a Prompt-Based Harringrove Series?](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771882) are unrelated, unconnected, and full of sass. 
> 
> You can find me yelling into the void on tumblr at [herobuckybarnes](http://herobuckybarnes.tumblr.com).


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